Snapshot
by Child of the Wilderness
Summary: Fiyero can't believe Elphie would leave without saying goodbye. I intend this to be a series of one-shots set after "Defying Gravity" and before "Thank Goodness".
1. Chapter 1

This was inspired by the story _Witchy Woman, _written by 's own Scandalous Intentions (the story can be found here: .net/s/5094987/1/).

Disclaimer: The only thing I own is a kitten I sometimes call my Cowardly Lion.

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It was a week since we said goodbye at the train station, talking in riddles around Galinda—Glinda—while she sought our attention.

It was four days since Glinda came home alone and spent an evening sobbing on my bed, telling her story.

It was four days since I realized my window faced west, and I'd been looking west almost incessantly since then.

It was a full day since I'd been out of my University dorm. I couldn't miss Elphie if she came for me—and she _would_ come for me; she'd offered Glinda the chance to go with her, I couldn't believe she'd deny me that chance. I could still hear Glinda's rendition of her final chat with Elphie:

"_And then she said 'so if you care to find me, look to the western sky!' and she—Fiyero, she flew!" _

So I stared at the western sky. I cared to find her. She just wasn't there. I glanced at the clock. Dinner time. I rummaged through my basket of pilfered food and found a handful of foil wrappers and two apple cores. It seemed cruel to make me leave my dorm, but I didn't see how starving up here was going to help Elphie.

"Please don't let me miss her," I prayed to whatever god might be listening. Surely, if she didn't intend to return, she would've thought of me and at least asked Glinda to say _something_. I kept expecting her to appear on my windowsill with a kiss and a tear or two before she flew off on an Animal rescue mission. I'd emptied my mostly-untouched schoolbooks from my book bag and shoved some clothes inside, with a muttered promise that I'd not let Elphie run off without me. Again.

I had an image to keep up, so I sauntered down to the dining hall as if I hadn't a care in the world. What had I told them, when I first came here? That nothing mattered except knowing nothing mattered. I didn't know if I ever really believed that, but it took a green girl's frank analysis to make me realize there was more to life than just popularity. And then that green girl had flown off and left me behind, frustrated and unable to follow.

If I hadn't been trying to pretend nothing was wrong, I never would have seen _it_. It was tacked to a bulletin board—just like any other notice about a campus event or a trip to the Emerald City. But, despite its relatively simple design, it was different.

It was _her_.

The poster, in a plain script read:

Wicked Witch at Large

(Anyone Found Aiding or Abetting this Enemy of Oz Shall be Held Responsible)

And underneath those horrible words was a candid shot of Elphie. I remembered that picture, and I gritted my teeth. That picture was taken on one of the rare sunny days we'd enjoyed recently; Glinda, Nessa, Boq, Elphie and I'd had a picnic on the front lawn of Shiz. When we were finished eating, Glinda started taking pictures. She'd gotten a rare one of Elphie laughing, and I secretly thought it was the nicest picture imaginable. Actually, I couldn't imagine anything nicer than Elphie laughing—unless it was Elphie kissing. I wanted to hurt Glinda for supplying a photo for a poster like this. I wanted to hurt her for going along with the public story of Elphie's disappearance, too.

On a whim, I tore the poster down and shoved it into my jacket, careful not to crunch it more than necessary.

I rushed through dinner and ran back up to my room. Among all my textbooks, I found one large enough to hide the poster and tucked my newfound treasure at page fifty-one—farther than I'd ever read. I shoved the book under my bed and reclaimed my seat by the window.

Maybe she'd come tonight and take me away with her. Maybe I'd never again have to look at that horrible poster just to glimpse her laughing.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I just spent a few hours reading copyright books even Elphie couldn't comprehend, and I'm now 100% positive none of this belongs to me. I'm not even sure my cat belongs to me anymore.

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It was three days since I stole the warning poster. Elphie still hadn't come—hadn't even sent a note. I had trouble admitting it to myself, but I was . . . scared. What if Elphie was hurt? What if she was dead? I needed to know, and I couldn't find out. The worry was driving me crazy. In fact, I was about to do something _truly_ crazy.

I was going to the bookstore. I'd never—willingly—set foot inside a University bookstore before. I purchased books under duress just before the semester began and I was usually expelled before exhausted students filed in to exchange their used books for a pittance.

There was a whole shelf for notebooks and sketchbooks, in the very back, behind the frighteningly thick textbooks no one—except Elphie—ever really read. I selected the biggest sketchbook, bigger than the textbook I'd tucked my first Elphie poster in, big enough to hide a multitude of posters.

There was a second poster tacked to the bulletin board now, and whoever was in charge of those horrificifying propaganda rags had a camera and better luck than I did. Underneath more blasphemous words was a snapshot of Elphie curled on a dorm bed. It was clear someone—Glinda—had taken the time to beautify my Elphie for that photo: she was wearing a hint of makeup and her hair was free from its usual braid (curse her for being only a picture! I wanted to run my fingers through that hair and never stop). Elphie wasn't exactly posing for the camera but she wasn't hiding either. She was breathtaking.

I tucked a copy of the second poster into my newly purchased sketchbook.

Instinct screamed that I should run back to my dorm, lock the door, and hide my new photo of Elphie. Instead, I took a leisurely detour and stopped to chat with a few fellow students so it didn't look too suspicious if Prince Fiyero Tiggular were caught in an art supply closet, staring at the different types of glue. As far as I knew, I'd never taken an art course . . . and I was pretty sure no one had ever explained the use of so many glue types.

I read the bottles—well, the first bottle—and found that it was useful for gluing paper, wood, and glass. I took it. I only needed to glue paper.

Back in my dorm, I carefully glued both posters of Elphie to the first sketchbook page; I almost cut away the disgusticifying words and left only the pictures of my beautiful Elphaba, but I decided to leave everything intact. Maybe someday I'd show it to her, tell her how much I missed her and how much it hurt when she didn't come back for me. For now, I tucked it under my bed.

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**A/N**

**Akasharogue: Thanks :) I wasn't sure I was going to continue this, but then I logged into my e-mail this morning, found your review, and wrote. I don't know where it's going, but I hope to find out.**

**Squint: Also, thank you. I think I've let my writing get a little rusty; it's been over a year since I wrote anything besides academic papers. Just for this moment, I'm actually enjoying the plot bunnies. It feels good to write again.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Fiyero's POV**

Glinda left for the Emerald City—again—on Friday. She was in the Wizard's good graces since everything went down with Elphie; I was worried about that. Glinda's sudden departure, however, inspired me. Maybe . . . just maybe . . . Elphie would know that ten days of torture, with only propaganda rags with her picture, was too much. Maybe she'd know Glinda was gone. Maybe she'd know what I would do when Glinda left.

I gathered my satchel, my scrapbook of Elphie posters (there were three now), my toothbrush and my pillow. Just in case Elphie didn't guess, I scrawled a note and taped it to the window:

_Fae, _

_I'm waiting for you in your room. _

_All my love, _

_Fiyero _

It wasn't hard to sneak into dorm room 421, and it wasn't as if I hadn't done it before . . .

"_Glinda is going to sleep at Shen Shen's tonight," Fae whispered as we passed in the hall._

"_I'll see you later," I answered. _

_Four hours later, I crawled through the girls' window. I was greeted by candles and chocolate . . . and Fae, her black hair enticingly loose around her shoulders. _

I shook my head to clear the memory . . . this time there were no candles, no chocolate, and—most importantly—no Fae to make me forget that anything existed outside of our love. This time even most of her things were gone. Glinda had salvaged a few favorites, tucked unobtrusively in the closet, from the ruthless school officials who'd cleaned out Elphie's stuff. I found a ragged sweatshirt that still smelled like my beloved and wrapped it around my pillow.

For the second time I would spend the night in Fae's bed. But this time, I knew I wouldn't wake up to her kisses.

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**Elphie's POV**

Ten days into defying gravity and I realized I was beyond unprepared. I needed a sweatshirt and old, clean clothes. I wanted my camera and the carefree memories it could bring. I was dirty, tired, and lonely. I wanted a hot shower, to feel Fiyero's lips moving with mine, to tell him . . . to cry on Glinda's shoulder. I wanted to give up, but I knew I couldn't.

Glinda knew the truth, even if she wouldn't admit it publicly. I turned my broom toward Shiz and prayed my friend would harbor me—a wanted criminal—for the night. I never would've admitted it to her, but I missed our 2 a.m. chats and cups of cocoa. I knew there would be chocolate in our room (we were never without it) and Glinda wouldn't let me sleep until I'd told her everything. It would be comforting.

It was just after midnight when I crawled through my window and was greeted by quiet breathing that made my heart leap—breathing that was decidedly unlike Glinda. I knelt by my old bed and stroked the hair away from Fiyero's sleeping face. It was good to stare at him, even for just a moment. I leaned forward and kissed his lips lightly before heading for the shower.

A half hour later, I sat on my bed and gently shook my sort-of-boyfriend.

"Fae?" he muttered, his voice husky with sleep and his eyes half-closed.

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**A/N**

**A million (and a half) thank yous to those who added this story to alerts and/or reviewed. I love you for it. I know this is a cliffhanger, but I promise more soon. Maybe tomorrow. I'm spoiling you guys with these frequent updates, but I've been sick and it feels good to lay in bed and write all day.**


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